Memories of a retired hero?
by demitotal disaster
Summary: Five times in which Donald considers and denies his return as Paperinik, and one time in which he doesn't consider and accept it.


If someone had told Donald that sooner or later he would crawl back to his uncle's manor, he would probably have mocked that person, if his anger did not appear involuntarily causing him to attack who said it.

However, there he was, living in the pool, in the courtyard, of his uncle.

If that wasn't a direct blow to his pride, he really didn't know what it was.

And though he had not crawled exactly, he had chosen to go to the place he had avoided for a decade, to the place that bothered him to see even a second, to the place he no longer knew whether to consider _home_.

But there he was, appreciating the interior of the mansion that despite the years he kept remembering, taking advantage of his uncle's absence after venturing with his nephews to tour it.

Honestly, the duck did not completely agree that four children risk their lives. Of course, his experience in Atlantis had made him see that he could trust them enough to know that they would return safe and sound, but his overprotective nature was stronger.

He could not bear the idea of his nephews putting their lives at risk for something as minimal as a treasure. Donald had already stopped considering that thought as fascinating.

He could hear Mrs. Beakley from a distance fulfilling her duties as a housekeeper, and honestly he could not blame her for being so calm while her granddaughter was at risk. In the few days he had lived in the manor, he had learned that the little girl was more than prepared for the smallest attack.

_Relax, Donald_, he whispered to himself, breathing slowly as his steps led him to the east wing of the mansion, tightly attached to the railing and feeling his hands tremble at the tension. _You're making a storm in a glass._

While he was breathing, he counted every breath by closing his eyes, stopping so that his clumsiness and bad luck wouldn't make him break something he would have to pay.

Gradually, his shoulders began to relax. _The kids are fine._

Perhaps he still failed to regain his uncle's confidence in the matter of the Spear of Selene, but he could not deny his nephews' happiness by not allowing them to do something that they clearly like. _They are fine._

Besides, he wouldn't say it out loud, much less in front of Uncle Scrooge, but he had really missed him, and he couldn't deny that returning to the manor, even after a decade while repairing his houseboat, it felt like a hug.

He allowed a smile to be sketched at his beak, and continued walking down the hallways of the floor. He really didn't need anything from the mansion, but he wanted to take advantage of Scrooge's absence to explore the residence and discover how much it had changed during his absence.

He didn't think Mrs. Beakley bothered unless he broke into her labors.

And to tell the truth, the duck could not visualize so many changes. Despite the lack of family photos, he continued to recognize every detail as the palm of his hand.

He kept recognizing the halls as if he had never left the mansion.

When he passed through the door he recognized as his nephews' new room, he smiled wistfully at all the games and activities they could now do, previously limited by the narrow space of the houseboat.

He continued walking, and allowed his steps to stop when he turned down the hall, a closed door receiving him, the legend _"Just Boys"_ written and before which he could not help laughing.

Especially for Della's poorly drawn face with a frown.

Wow, he had been repressed by his uncle that day, but hey, it was still there.

However, his smile was erased when his gaze focused on the knob, faithfully polished being able to appreciate the reflection of his disfigured face.

Honestly the duck kept doubting if he really should do it, if it was necessary to do it. But then he remembered that he could not lock himself in the boat forever, that sooner or later he was going to meet that room, either by his uncle or his nephews.

And he couldn't run from those memories. He would like it or not.

His thoughts quieted when his wrist turned, the knob giving in to his movement, revealing an unsecured door.

He exhaled air that he didn't know he had saved, and counted a few seconds to appreciate...

Absolutely no change.

The band posters were still there, the case of his empty guitar, his collection of boats occupying much of the wall adjacent to his bed next to the drawings and photos with José and Panchito, his Mickey Mouse clock on the bedside table —even the scores of his songs on the yellowed papers were still there!—, his cello resting against the opposite wall, and at its side a not very small treasure chest.

Even the bed and walls still are ocean-themed and Donald's melancholy smile only widened. A simple room sucked all the aroma of _home_.

Duckworth and Mrs. Beakley had to keep it clean all this time, the duck was allowed to think, nostalgic.

And that installed a knot in the mouth of his stomach.

Scrooge had given him that room as soon as they entered puberty, and though it was not easy not to sleep in the same room as Della after sharing it practically all their life, they had soon made up they mind. For Duckworth it was not so as he was not the most orderly of the twins.

Of course, he never heard him reply, but after maturing he had understood that he did not have the best attitude and had never had the opportunity to apologize.

And maybe he could never—

_Wait!_

Donald's shoulders tensed, and he scanned the room quickly and again, feeling his breathing begin to shake.

_If they clean the room completely, which he did not hesitate, they also cleaned the closet, which means that…_

Realizing his thoughts, his hands pointed to the door corresponding to the closet, and he quickly secured the door so he could quickly go to the small room by slamming the door open, being greeted by the blue sailor suits he had forgotten to pack when he left the mansion.

Slowly, his breathing became heavier.

He ran the clothes, sighing partially relieved when his gaze stopped in the hidden box, at the point that, despite the years, he remembered leaving.

He took the carton box and slowly dragged it into the bedroom, seeing little by little, as the legend _"Donald's Private and Boring Stuff"_ written in very bad calligraphy began to appear.

On another side he could see, written in red marker, _"Do not open, especially not you Dumbella!"_ next to another badly drawn face of his sister with a big sign of prohibition on it.

But Donald could laugh at it later, before he should—

His train of thought derailed when he opened the box, when a cloud of dust jumped on his face, looking away to sneeze.

Well, they had respected his privacy. He knew that otherwise his uncle would have immediately ignored their argument and would turn the city just to look for him and hit him with his cane on the head demanding explanations.

So he could be calm.

But it couldn't be enough for Donald.

He could feel his gaze shining when he looked at the contents of the box. Everything was still there.

The cape and mask gave him a warm greeting. The belt with the gadgets gave him a lump in his throat that he had to try to swallow.

It had been ten years since he had even seen that suit. When he left, he had sworn to get away from the adventures, even the ones he had as a superhero.

The triplets had already lost their mother. He could not risk them losing their uncle, and leaving them in the care of Scrooge while he was saving the city was not only suspicious, but unfeasible.

Of course, as soon as he retired the crime levels in his quiet city began to be considerable, and the theories regarding his retirement began, some more grotesque than others.

He hadn't told Lyla about his new location, and though she could locate him, the journalist had never knocked on his door. Deep down, she still feared she had been forced to return to the 23rd century since his was no longer that of the **_eccentric superhero._**

Not even Uno had…

Ah, yes, _Uno_. Another key point of his retirement.

But now that he saw the suit again, completely bathed in dust, Donald felt the years pass over himself.

Now, his nephews were safe in the manor, with Uncle Scrooge, and crime was still present in Duckburg.

_Maybe he should…?_

_**No.**_ Donald shook his head, pulling those thoughts away as soon as they appeared.

He couldn't. He just couldn't afford that.

He had completely turned away from that life. Now, his nephews were the adventurers, not him.

Of course, the adventure was in his blood, literally, but he had become accustomed, perhaps too much, to his quiet life as a citizen. The situation in Atlantis had been nothing but a product of his bad luck.

Also, who says he couldn't protect his family in his civil identity? He had done it at Funso's Funzone!

Yes, he could do that. He could protect his family.

Like Donald,

the superhero who had _not_ returned to the city casually after he appears on national television in the company of his uncle and nephews.

He smiled sadly looking at the suit for the last time before closing the box and taking it back to the closet.

Paperinik would still be dead.

* * *

"Gizmoduck, huh?"

Donald changed the channels with apparent disinterest, but it didn't matter.

Everyone kept talking about the city's new superhero.

He could hear the children in the other room, especially Huey and Dewey, praising him, which of course moved the duck. It had been a long time since they had a clear admiration for someone who was not their uncle, and —even though he was selfish— he preferred that they see someone who was not from his family and was greater than him.

Enough self-esteem issues had caused him.

Finally, a channel focused on talking in more detail about the heroic act, and through the screen he could feel the tension of the citizens present in the recording.

It was normal. He had seen one of his nephews there! He had allowed his to go to Waddle's presentation!

Of course, he hadn't sensed the events happening that way, but his desire to keep his nephews away from danger had influenced his decision to give up the adventures, super or not.

But were they even able to risk their lives outside the mansion?!

He sighed in frustration.

Worst of all, he didn't feel able to scold the eldest of his nephews for getting involved in superhero stuff when he used to.

Sure, he wasn't as young as he was back then, but they were still superhero stuff.

Perhaps it was his problem to think so much about it, when he had promised not to do it again?

_"…Duckburg's new menace…"_

He flicker. _When did he change the channel?_

_And why, of all the channels of Uncle Scrooge's great collection, have to be that?_

_00?_

Donald doubted they had the same fame as in Paperinik's time, but it was inevitable not to talk about Gizmoduck when the entire city did.

And of course _Angus Fangus_ had to do it.

"Looks like he found his new Paperinik already," Donald dared to think, clearing his throat, ignoring that the kiwi looked as old as he was. What did he did it out loud? What did it matter

He just hoped that Gizmoduck had the same mental strength as him to tolerate how some people tried to make him look like the bad guy, the one who helped the police in their work and then betray them.

_Maybe he should…?_

**_No, no and a thousand times no._ **He suddenly turned off the television when Angus's face stopped appearing on it, downplaying the following news.

Sure. He knew beforehand the pros and cons of being Duckburg's savior, he thought he knew how much Gizmoduck would appreciate the advice of, modesty apart, an old legend, and he still kept the suit.

But he knew his luck. They were probably attacked and forced to work together. They were probably found by newscasts.

And most probably they will begin to consider it as his return.

** _No thanks._ **

"Uncle Donald!"

The shock of the duck was such that the remote control jumped out of his hands, and he had to rely on his partially rusty reflexes to be able to take it before it touched the ground and broke.

He looked up to see four ducklings run towards him, clearly excited.

"What's up, kids? 'S everything alright?" He can appreciate how they were panting slightly despite their big smiles, and he could assume they had run for the manor in his search.

So Donald had the decency to allow them to catch their breath. Meanwhile, he reaffirmed himself on the couch, leaving the control on the coffee table.

Meanwhile, he glimpses Webby with a notepad and a pencil in her hand, so he could assume that he would be questioned and smiled fondly.

"What do you know about Paperinik?" Panting in smaller quantity, Dewey questioned as excited as the rest of the ducklings.

So they did not distinguish the microsecond in which Donald's smile vanished as he put both hands on his knees.

"How do you know about... Paperinik?" He asked as casually as he could, shoulders slightly tense.

"While we watched the news of Gizmoduck, some reporters talked about the first great hero of the city, so we decided to investigate," well, Donald never considered himself a great hero, but he couldn't tell that to the red-clad triplet, "until one man, Angus said something about a Paperinik 2.0"

Inevitably, Donald grimaced at the tone used by his nephew to mention the name of the superhero.

_Of course Angus wouldn't forget me_, he thought, partially frowning.

"But we only found old news about him." Climbing beside him on the couch, Louie brought him the cellphone, showing the new that despite the time, he kept remembering like the day Angus had intelligently accused him as the mysterious vandal that break through _Boxes Inc.'s_ box storage warehouses, "we wanted to ask Uncle Scrooge. You know, because every old is wise."

Donald snorted, trying not to laugh.

"But he assured us that you knew more about him!" He pulled the phone back, turning it off to put it in his hood pocket. "He said you were known as his best friend. It's true?"

_Well, that makes things easier._ He had dared to think, perceiving the curious looks of the children.

He smiled warmly.

"Yes. Paperinik and I were great friends" deep down, he was grateful to have created that alibi long ago, otherwise he would respond belatedly and nervously creating suspicion in them. "We didn't go out much because he was always very busy, but I dare to say he was a very good person."

Suddenly, he saw Webby write what he was saying in his notepad and Huey took his guidebook out of his cap, leafing through it quickly in search of a blank papyrus.

Deep down, he feels moved over the fact that they go with him in search of information and receive it with such interest. The last time that happened was years ago, when his nephews were even smaller.

It was gratifying to be that duck again.

"Can you tell us more about him, Mr. Duck?" Webby, the always hyperactive and lively Webby Vanderquack, smiled nervously and used the pencil to play with her hair. "Please?"

Donald pretended to think about it for a few seconds, with one hand on his chin and an arched eyebrow.

"I don't see why not," he barely spoke, immediately he was surrounded by four lovable children, all expectant of his words with bright eyes, full of intense curiosity and small smiles on their faces.

He laughed lightly and settled down to receive them better.

"By the way, Webby." He focused his gaze on the girl dressed in pink and violet tones, whose expression became nervous again. "No formalities. You can call me Donald, okay?"

Fondly, he stroked the duckling's hair, partially ruffling it. That seemed to relax her, because though flushed, she gave him a sweet smile.

She nodded slowly, and the elder allowed himself to sigh.

"Well, he was the most dedicated superhero I ever met, if you let me say…" He smiled broadly. And so he started talking about him.

Of course, it was basic information that he knew would not be compromising, what little he allowed the media to know before working as the Ducklair Tower's custodian besides Uno, perceiving how Webby and Huey wrote precipitously in their notepad and guidebook respectively.

He talked like Donald,

Paperinik's _old best friend_, the superhero who had caught the attention of _his four_ ducklings.

As he did so, he did not perceive how Louie's gaze became brighter and brighter, wondering: was there really such an amazing superhero? And why did he retire?

* * *

"Stay away from my kids!"

The Gyro's modulator was amazing! Donald had never felt so satisfied since the last speech therapy he had come to with his uncle.

But now that the modulator had turned his voice completely intelligible, he felt that his old spark was back, that he was able to formulate a plan for the next adventure beside his family.

That the adventurer, the Navy sailor and reckless but cautious Duck had returned.

Maneuvering between the shadows, he didn't hesitate to attack, defend, and strike at the astonished gaze of the aforementioned children.

He couldn't blame them. Surely they only knew that side of him from mere stories, and their excessive paternal attitude had made them difficult to believe.

But they messed with only one of those children, and they messed with him.

And now he wanted to put all four safe.

Which was not very difficult. The shadows were easier to defeat than an armed _Evronian_, especially in the case of brute force.

"Go find your uncle!" He exclaimed as soon as he put them safe in the bin that Donald remembered so much. "I'll put these palookas at bay. Remember: these ducks don't back down."

After that, he closed the door again facing the shadows.

It was just them and him in an unfair confrontation of many against one. But it was fine, he always preferred that kind of fighting.

Especially when he knew he had the win despite his bad luck.

"What's up, are you having a bad day?" He asked sarcastic after defeating a pair of shadows. "Mine was quite **_somber_**, and I would appreciate if you could enlighten it."

However, when he spoke, he felt a current of electricity literally run through him, causing him to twist his aching body, unconsciously hitting the approaching shadows.

"It seems that technology is not my friend at the moment." Among sparks, he sensed how his voice came out as unintelligible and garbled as he knew it. "Fortunately…"

After defeating three more shadows, he noticed how one of them was dressed in a robotic suit, approaching in a small tire to him.

The constant news had made him recognize him as Gizmoduck.

"…I did not depend entirely on technology," growling enticing, one more sparkle ran through his body partially sponging his feathers.

It was no use denying it. Donald recognized his alter-ego in his movements and one-liners. That the resurgence of his spark brought the whole package.

He was not going to deny it. Even in his civil identity, he still maintained his internal Paperinik.

_**But his attitude was justifiable**_, he tried to tell himself, to _lie_ himself. His family was in danger, and basically it was up to him that the shadows won't reach they.

Gizmoduck's shadow revealed all the weapons that the suit included, as if the true hero will use it at that moment.

But Donald did not flinch and, breathing heavily, began to see red as he approached shaking both arms.

In just an instant, and among constant grunts, Paperinik had disappeared to make way for Donald Duck.

Launching his signature battle cry, he began to move around the huge figure between constant blows, grunts and pulls.

Completely dismantling the suit and stopping in the shade in the process. Releasing all his anger in his desire to protect his four children.

Like Donald,

the _hot-tempered_ _duck_ whose anger issues were more than beneficial at the time.

"Mr. Duck!"

Landing on the palm of his hand and the opposite knee in a film effect, he gasped harshly seeing the pieces of metal that were once a superhero suit.

_I hope he was not spiteful_, Donald internally begged when more than one figure entered the room.

_Well, I was no longer alone in this_. Donald smiled to himself, determined.

* * *

Before they knew it, their first Halloween since their arrival at the manor arrived.

Donald remained in the foyer beside Scrooge, who impatiently hit the ground with the tip of his cane.

He would not lie, he was surprised that the children convinced him to accompany them, as well as Mrs. Beakley. He would have thought that he would reject it for being a traded day and with curses and false ghosts as someone who faced them every day, as well as that it could be very dangerous for the kids thinking that Glomgold or The Beagle Boys would take advantage of the costumes to kidnap or hurt them.

"Are you sure about this, Uncle Scrooge? The last time you attacked someone who dressed up as Glomgold thinking he wanted to kidnap Della and me despite knowing self defense" despite remembering it laughing, Donald really feared he would repeat himself on Halloween when both twins were ten-years-old.

"'a course Ah'm, lad! Ah already promised the bairns 'n' Ah cannae disappoint them," he said decisively, frustrated at the bottom by the delay of the above, though. "Also, Ah learned a lot since then. Now Ah can distinguish tha' faker anywhere."

Behind the businessman's back, Donald rolled his eyes while still smiling.

"I am the terror that stalks the night." They both looked toward the stairs, where one of the triplets wiggled a cape, dressed in a violet suit and hat. "Where there is danger, there I will be, Darkwing Duck!"

Laughing, he started down the rest of the rungs running. Hyperactivity, added to the lack of interest on whether or not he said Darkwing's characteristic line correctly, made both uncles identify him as Dewey.

"Watch out, Webby!" With Beakley's help, a triplet was coming down the stairs. It was not necessary to be an expert to recognize Huey under the Gizmoduck's costume made with white-painted carton. Beside him, the little duck dressed as a ninja was coming down between jumps.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I'm very excited. It's my first Halloween!" Vigorous, she climbed onto the railing sliding down it, hitting Donald's nerves.

"Be careful, Webby. You don't want to hurt yourself" and being the overprotective uncle he was, he was there to catch the girl as soon as she reached the end of the railing, taking her in his arms.

He was not going to deny that he felt the joy of the little duck. It reminded him of Della every Halloween, both wearing matching costumes.

He had become so fond of her to the point of considering her as his niece. Which of course activated his paternal sense.

"Don't worry, Uncle Donald. I'm fine," she said with a small smile. The first time she called him Uncle was by chance, and when she realized quickly she tried to apologize until he had assured her that it didn't bother him.

He was satisfied seeing that it no longer bothered her, though, and she even spoke to him with confidence and comfort as if they were really from the same family and that Mrs. Beakley did not bother it.

He placed Webby back on the ground again, watching her approach Dewey and Scrooge, talking happily with them, and refocused his gaze on his nephew and Beakley on the last steps.

"Where's your brother?" He dared to ask, surprised, helping the housekeeper —dressed like Elizabeth II— to transport Huey and adjusting his helmet in the process.

"He's coming, Uncle Donald, he was giving the last details to his disguise." Smiling, he approached the rest of his family, thanking himself for obtaining the monocycling badge.

He smiled fondly with Mrs. Beakley.

"Sure you don't want to disguise, Donald?" Said the woman. "Your uncle says this was your favorite day as a _wee child_."

In response, he shook his head in a gesture.

"I'll be fine. It was especially because of the combined costumes that I used with Della because that's how we got more candies, but now it's their day. It would be imprudent not to let them enjoy it." Smiling at the eldest, he looked out of the corner of his eye at his nephews, his honorary niece, his uncle.

He couldn't believe that he had forgotten that because of his anger at Scrooge, his pride. He even downplayed his houseboat was almost rebuilt.

"Looks like there's an excellent night at McDuck Manor." A new voice was heard in the lobby and everyone looked up at the stairs.

And Donald felt the knot begin to form in his throat, swallowing heavily.

"Don't worry. Its great friend and savior, _**Paperinik**_, will make sure that it stays that way. Because _I am_ the friend of the night!" Louie showed a wide smile, and his eyes didn't show that selfless glow characteristic of him. Instead, he went down the rungs humming the song that Donald was sure came from a superhero movie.

But no matter what he did, the knot did not fade from the sailor's throat. He mentally wondered if his gaze shone.

"Paperinik? Ah dinnae think he was sae well known even afte' a decade," Scrooge said, bewildered by the attentive eyes of ducklings.

"And he isn't, but he's still considered a legend," the triplet second proudly, going down the rest of the stairs happily. "Since Uncle Donald told us about him months ago, I wanted to know a little more, do you know how difficult is to find information about a superhero who made little known of himself?"

Meanwhile, the youngest uncle was smiling tenderly. Was he really still having an admirer after so many years? Yes, Louie had told him once, but he still didn't believe it.

"But that doesn't make him less amazing! I mean, an ordinary duck who managed to defeat an alien race and had to endure thousands of accusations against him? What is cooler than that?" Content, Louie ran both hands through the supersuit once more, enjoying the texture of it. "Thanks for the costume, Uncle Donald. It must have cost a fortune, it looks like the true costume of a superhero."

And it was, Donald thought trying not to smile with bravado. As soon as he had discovered his child's fanaticism, he had been confined in the houseboat to squeak silently. After that, he took advantage of an adventure of his uncle in which Beakley had accompanied them to find a spare suit in his old room.¹

He didn't know if Duckworth had discovered it, but the butler had never told him anything.

It had taken him more than a week to modify the suit, and having 10 years of experience making Halloween costumes for his babies he knew by heart the exact size of each of them.

He had even removed the gadgets from the belt, which was not easy work.

Of course, it was easy to explain the adhesive bandages on both hands with the repair of the boat, but it was worth it to see the child happy.

_A little secret didn't hurt anyone._

"Don't mention it, Louie, I still have some money in my savings anyway," said Donald with an smile, approaching to properly accommodate the mask and blue sailor's hat.

"Too bad you couldn't buy one more for yourself. Thus, we could be a pair of vigilantes, saving the city from the criminals and perhaps getting money as a reward" and thus, the classic Louie returned, and Donald wondered how the family did not perceive the moment he startled.

In fact, he hadn't considered the possibility of using his old suit as a disguise, and Louie doing it had taken him off guard.

It didn't sound like a bad idea, after all, take the advantage of the day to use it and feel it once again, feeling like he could be his nephew's hero quite literally.

**_But there was also the possibility of being recognized._ **That is to say, Angus kept remembering him, using every heroic act of Gizmoduck to mention him and make them both look like menaces, and he even feared that even Scrooge would recognize him by appearing with the suit on, acclaiming being Donald.

And to be recognized by a transient reporter when they saw him as Paperinik in the company of Scrooge McDuck and four well-known children was an idea that Donald _didn't_ feel like.

What was a resounding **_no_**.

"We're going?" His uncle's voice took him out of his thoughts, and the duck nodded slowly without saying a word to get up, but not before checking Louie's suit again.

"Then Launchpad won't come with us?" Not long in hearing Dewey's voice, failing to hide the disappointment in his tone.

"Unfortunately not, he will only lead us under the hill, but a friend from St. Canard called him and he has to go," Beakley said seriously, approaching his granddaughter to stay by her side.

Dewey snapped his fingers, saddened that he couldn't be with his friend during his first Halloween as McDuck's great nephew, and get dangerous with him.

Meanwhile, both uncles smiled to themselves, seeing the happiness radiating from the ducklings, which boasted their costumes with emotion —Huey's being the only one made by hand— while they took their respective bags of candy.

They left the mansion, where Launchpad was waiting patiently by the limousine.

And while Huey was descending the stairs in his unicycle with Scrooge's help, the sailor happily watched as his three remaining nephews and niece approached the limo and climbed up giving a greeting to the driver, being followed by Mrs. Beakley.

He soon joined them with the eldest of his nephews and his uncle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Louie admire how much treasure his suit was, moved to see his boy fascinated with something other than gold.

Deep down, he hoped he would not regret his decision if the hero was still recognized by attracting unexpected surprises during the night, because it would have to be too dumb not to distinguish the little resemblance between him and Louie.

Because he wanted to enjoy the day, yes, like Donald,

the _uncle_ proud of someone admiring him without even knowing it, especially in the case of his own family.

As soon as they entered the city, crashing into a lamppost in the parking process, the four siblings abruptly descended from the limo between laughter and pleasant talks, being quickly accompanied by Donald, Scrooge and Beakley.

That would be a _very_ long night.

* * *

He had forgotten how stressful it was to live under the same roof as Scrooge McDuck.

It was not to misunderstand. In the time since their first adventure in Atlantis, his relationship with his uncle had improved: he loved him, since Della was openly talked about trust had grown, and had even discovered that he was in the will.

But he had never considered molting.

Of course, as soon as he discovered it, he bought a hammock with the little money from his savings that he didn't spend on his nephews and tried to relax.

But it didn't take long to remember where he lived now, and the consequences that entailed.

Zombies, furious gods and even _interdimensional_ travel.

The last time he molted was due to the stress of caring for his sister's children, being a superhero —about to retire— and cousin at the same time, and mourn Uno's deactivation, for God's sake!

Worst of all was that at that time he had a worse work-life balance, and was not as noticeable as he was today.

Fortunately, he was a Duck-McDuck, who despite their thirst for adventure, money, knowledge and wisdom, remained a _family_.

"Are you sure you'll be fine, Unca' Scrooge?" And yes, it was a delight to refer to him without tensions, just as when he was a duckling who was just beginning to live with him and his speech impediment was bigger.

Through the older man's affectionate expression, he knew that this feeling was reciprocal.

"Aye, lad, don' worry too much." Helping him pack, the older duck smiled at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Ye don' want tae molt completely."

Sensing the mocking but playful tone of Scrooge, Donald smiled amused.

He breathed a sigh and stopped his hand over his uncle's, ignoring the roughness of it.

"Thank you so much for the cruise, really Unca'. I don't know how, but I will compensate you." He smile candidly.

"Bah humbug! Ye deserve it, m'boy." Still smiling, he put his arm around him in a lazy hug. "Ye have seen for th' well-being of these wee ones since their hatching, and we have done nothing but stress ye. It's yer turn tae relax."

Looking down, Donald smiled softly. There were rare occasions when his uncle took a fatherly role with him since his eleventh birthday.

He dared to say that those moments were a jewel.

"We're family, lad. Ah cannae charge ye because ye take a well-deserved, relaxing remote vacation," he added, and Donald did not know his uncle. Of course, he liked to receive such treatment from him, the tensions between them had diminished; but he was so used to the frivolous and greedy duck that only cheered for money and adventures that seeing a sweetened uncle was a scenario that could be worth a fortune.

**_What was he thinking when he considered being Paperinik again?_ **Sure, unlike the adventures he faced with bare hands and bad luck, the idea of facing foes, sure of a victory with the support of his gadgets and his ingenuity seemed more tempting.

The _suit_ reminded him of that possibility.

The _emergence of Gizmoduck_ reminded him of his beginnings as a superhero, when he set aside the villainy against his uncle and Gladstone.

The _encounter with Magica_ reminded him of his great days, facing both Evronians and criminals of smaller caliber using only his fists, his paralyzer and the X-Transformer.

Finally, _last Halloween_ reminded him that his legacy was still valid, was still remembered, and was still acclaimed, with Louie's attention being the faithful reminder of his popularity regardless of the time elapsed.

Yes, on more than one occasion he had thought about it. Yes, on more than one occasion he had _really_ considered it.

_**But it was time to leave the past behind and live the present.**_ Because yes, having been Paperinik was wonderful: he had fame, a fortune assured in 23rd century, the recognition of the great Odin Eidolon, and the admiration of his nephew.

But who says he was currently not happy? A new chapter of his life was going on.

Being Donald,

the old superhero, the old friend of said superhero, the hot-tempered duck, the uncle, and the _nephew_ graceful for the beautiful family that had formed over the months.

And he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

"Let's finish packing, o'right?" His unca' sighed, patting him lightly on the back before breaking the physical contact, nodding almost instantly in response and moving away reluctantly to continue packing what was necessary.

Yes, he would miss his family during the month he would be on the cruise, but they were the Duck family, and he knew what would happen would happen and they win as they always did.

_What's the worst that could happen?_

* * *

_Ah, phooey_. That was the worst thing that could happen.

Donald was writhing desperately, growling under his breath. He felt a strong discomfort in both arms, and honestly he already felt numb when considering the possible elapsed time they had secured them in his back generating extra weight on his shoulders.

Occasionally he would get up as he could feel his legs tremble, before having a moment of foolishness to try to hit bars and walls with both forearms, ignoring the acute pain that this causes in his shoulder blades and attracting with him the replicas of the guards who held him prisoner.

What the _hell_ had Della done to be proclaimed a traitor? Donald wondered to himself. Because despite the time and distance, he kept remembering how reckless his sister could be, and the consequences that this brought during their adventures with Uncle Scrooge.

That is, she was nice, but she was also very clueless unless the other person was overly expressive.

Not to mention that she could be as unfortunate as he was, even though his twin's bad luck was more moderate than his'.

He tackled once more the wall of his cell, the consistency of gold finally numbing his left shoulder and he winced in pain, his moans muted by the gag used in his beak.

_Being seized was definitely not in his ideal for relaxing remote vacations._

He suppressed a sob, and Donald dropped down, leaning his back against the cold wall, uncomfortable with the feel of the Oxy-Chew and the strong taste of black licorice concentrated in his mouth without being able to chew properly.

_How would his sister be?_ He dared to think, staring at the floor. _Because she must be fine if he saw the Spear of Selene land in the woods._

The memory of the Spear taking off was still causing him nightmares so as not to remember it, so seeing it cross the skies of Duckburg had turned around in his heart.

_Of course, activating it was not in his plans._

But of course, who gets stuck with all the bad luck?

_No one but Donald Duck._

But as long as he was sure that his family was fine, he could endure as much time as possible until he returned to Earth.

"Calm down, I'll take care of him." A female voice echoed inside the cell. And Donald thought he had gone crazy because of his emotions when he saw Xadhoom for a second.

He blinked and saw again that violet-skinned alien and gold suit.

"As you say, Lieutenant Penumbra," to later see how those guards easily handed her the key, moved away from the bars and walked down the long corridor.

If he wasn't gagged, he would have been impressed by the confidence they had with... Penumbra? Yeah, Penumbra.

Well, she was a lieutenant. If he were still in the Navy and watching someone from the enemy lines, he would have yielded to the orders of his superiors.

"How're you?" She asked sarcastically, keeping a serious expression towards the duck that simply shrugged.

He was not going to lie. If they didn't understand his words, he didn't understand why the gag; he could simply claim his innocence, question about Della, explain that he really came in peace, and they would easily manipulate his speech impediment to make him look like a dangerous threat.

"Calm down, I'm not coming to drag you again," she said, and the sailor saw her expression fade, analyzing her surroundings, and surprising him when she revealed a pair of keys in her uniform. "I come to help you."

Why. Donald could have asked if he had the ability even though the lieutenant was not able to understand it.

Despite that, Penumbra was able to perceive the doubt in the prisoner's features before heading to his back.

"Because I met Della," and given the confidence shown in his companion's words, Donald froze. "It was a few weeks, but she was bustling, and incredibly naive."

Well, that sounded like the Dumbella he knew, he smiled sideways.

"She was chattering a lot, but it was always about_ her children_." He finally felt his hands free, and it was not long before he began to massage his wrists, ignoring the weight that now settled in the pit of his stomach upon hearing the uncertainty with which Penumbra was referring to the triplets. "She never betrayed us. Her only interest was to return to Earth and reunite with her family."

_I knew it!_ Despite how dumb his twin could be, he knew from the heart that she would not be able to betray anyone.

'Why are you telling me all this?' He tried to ask raising his eyebrow.

"She used to say that I reminded her of you a lot, and she used to be very attached to me calling me her best friend. She clearly appreciates you." The hint of a smile showed, but he wouldn't say anything even if he could.

'Then why do they consider her a traitor, why did they consider me a threat?'

"Lunaris is bringing an army to destroy the Earth," the lieutenant finally confessed, and felt his shoulders tense.

** _Not again! Why right now?_ **

"If you're as rash and rude as Della says, I know you can do this." Donald did not hesitate to get up, putting aside the sensation of his sleepy body at the constant, previous tackles. "I also know that I'm basically betraying my people by trusting you, but I never perceived bad intentions from her, and it would be unfair to pay her this way. I don't agree with this invasion."

He believed it too. His fists shook.

He had stopped constant invasion attempts a decade ago, what was the difference now?

'Thank you for telling me this.' He tried to smile through the gag. 'Do you want to help me stop an invasion?'

He extended a hand to Penumbra, taking her off guard. However, she corresponded the gesture… more strongly than expected.

Maybe he could get a gold suit?²

He could think about it later. Now, he had a goal to follow. An objective to fulfill.

Those aliens had messed with the wrong duck.

_With the wrong superhero._

Because yeah. Angus, the news, his family and Duckburg had to welcome him back.

_Paperinik would go back to the streets._

* * *

_**¹ Talking with Heart_The_Legend, emerged the HC that Louie, being a fan of the superhero, would do anything to get the PK merchandise and hide it very well to prevent damage, considering it his treasure, being especially hard to get by the hero's retirement. Speaking, they mentioned that, seeing that Louie had a bad day, Donald would give him one of his spare suits. We were honestly fascinated by the idea of Donald shrieking in the background.**_

_**It has some modifications due to the events of the fic, being that in the headcanon spoken by both, the triplets were followers of Paperinik until hearing of Gizmoduck and DW, Louie retaining that admiration, though.**_

_**² Another change in the HC was Donald's suit, since the idea of it was originally formulated, as well as the spare suit made of gold because we consider the possibility of the suit being like that as a result of the last episodes until Moonvasion! —yes, we supported Donald's idea on the moon as the emergence of PK—; we even talk of Donald talking about being "lucky" to have a connection with the hero, with Louie questioning him about how he knows him to ask for an autograph and ask him about his retirement.**_

_**But that he keeps the suit, he keeps the suit 8)**_


End file.
